The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. ’ Grudgingly, the sergeant shifted aside and allowed her access to the stairs, grumbling to her retreating back, ‘If I’d me way, missie, I’d send you back to France where you ought never to have come away from, if you arst me. ’ The lady shook her head, contriving at the same moment to utter a breathy little laugh. . She looked from Anna, who was far too nice-looking to be travelling about alone, to that reassuring pile of luggage, and wrinkled her brows thoughtfully. “Why do you kill me?” Michelle asked. ” “In Paris, I think,” Ennison answered.
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